Corn Chips
by descole4life
Summary: The circus is in town, and with the help of Weedle, we're all going down.
1. Fruit-Punch Stain Sadness

N was like any other kid. Well, other than the fact that he had been locked up in his own room for over half his life, he was pretty dang normal. As normal as any kid who also happens to be a king. But that's beside the point.

Today was the day he had been looking forward to for the majority of his life. His one chance of freedom; the one day he could finally escape. _The circus was in town. _Nimbasa City, if we're being specific about _which_ town.

But the boy could never know what adventures awaited him. Sure, he would meet the girl of his dreams, but that's irrelevant right now. Well, now as in right now; it'll be relevant in about three minutes. But besides the girl, he would have to win the hearts of millions of people and their pokemon and lay his claim on the title of "Hero" before any other king decided to get wise and claim the title for himself.

Anyway, let's get on with the story.

It was nearing midday now, and the sun shone brightly against the blue skies. Light streamed in through the windows of the castle, cloaking the inside with a warm glow. N nervously stood in front of two large, wooden doors. He knocked twice, waited, and when he received no answer, pushed the doors open and entered the room anyway.

His father, Ghetsis, rested in a large chair tilted slightly toward a flickering fireplace. The flames danced about, creating oddly shaped figures on the surrounding walls. Save for the fire, the room was dark, with long purple and gold curtains smothering any light that dared to enter through the windows.

Ghetsis paid no mind to his son and continued glaring down at the floor. That was the last time he would ever try to drink fruit punch in the dark. The stain would never come out, but if he kept the room as dark as it was now, none would be the wiser.

N coughed slightly before speaking. "Father, I have something I must ask."

"No, you cannot go to the circus. You must only leave this castle when you are needed for, uh, King reasons. Yeah let's go with that." Ghetsis continued glaring at the stain, refusing to make eye contact with the boy.

"W-what? How did you - but daaaaaadd! I'm a big boy now! Can't I leave this castle?" His voice cracked about midway through his whining, making him seem sound even more so like the little child he was.

At last, his father slowly lifted his head and turned toward him. He narrowed his eyes and snarled. "No son. You're too beautiful for this world."

"B-but, father! The world needs more beauty! It is already filled with so much...ugly."

Ghetsis shook his head slowly and rose from his seat. He made his way over to the window to the right of the fireplace and lifted the curtain slightly as to see the world outside of the castle. Even though the castle is currently underground beneath the Elite Four at this point in the story, he somehow still managed to see the world around him. He was that powerful.

"Watch your tongue son! Did you forget about the pokemon of this world? Did you forget about the weedles? They are in no way ugly." Ghetsis clicked his tongue before turning to look at his son. "They are in no way a part of the ugly."

At those words, those precise words (those words about weedles), images began flickering in N's mind. Memories flooded his thoughts. Memories of that girl and her weedle. That Hilda girl and her most definitely not ugly weedle. He suddenly felt light-headed and woozy, feeling the need now more than ever to get out of this dang castle and see that circus (and also Hilda and her weedle). He grabbed the brim of his hat, pulling it down further and covering his eyes.

He first took a step toward his father and then in a burst of speed, turned the other way and fled.

"W-weedle! WEEDLE!" He cried out as he burst through the door and through the long, winding corridors of the castle. Ghetsis only stood in front of the window, slightly shocked but not really over his son's actions. He thought about saying something, but by the time he thought of something to say, he was about three minutes too late.

"I didn't got to tell him how I feel," he whispered, sobs breaking his normally calm demeanor. "I never got to tell him how I feel about the weedles."


	2. Birthday Party!

Like the ugly little man he was, Ghetsis fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. He stared down at the ground, his mood slightly lifted when he noticed that at least there wasn't a fruit punch stain _here_.

The wooden doors burst open for the second time in about five minutes, but this time, rather than some nerd standing in the doorway, two young woman stood smiling. The two were linked arm-in-arm, and with a nod, began to waltz into the room, their steps mirroring each other. The two then unlinked arms stood a few feet apart, making a great big show of this for now apparent reason. Anthea began to speak as Concordia began to throw confetti around the room.

"Alright who's up for some pizza?!" She began to pump one fist in the air, much to the disdain of Ghetsis. The two women had taken to watching reality TV, and the affect it had on the both of them was highly negative and a center of concern.

Ghetsis stared at the two from his spot on the floor. Disgust wrinkled his face. He slowly rose to his feet, being careful to ensure that neither girl saw the fruit punch stain on the floor beside him. He dusted off his sleeves and robe, slowly and deliberately, making sure both Anthea and Concordia fully understood his disgust with their presence.

"It's your birthday, Ghetsis! Happy birthday!" Concordia began clapping fervently while Anthea threw more streamers. Their actions were incredibly awkward and would insight second-hand embarrassment if these events were described any further. Moving on.

Ghetsis continued to stare at the two girls as they continued their celebratory ritual. They were doing some sort of odd dance now and the Elite Four were suddenly filled with an inexplicable sense of discomfort. Ghetsis, feeling the most uncomfortable of all, began to cry. This was just too much pain for any single person to bear.

The girls stopped dancing and began whispering to one another. Anthea spoke first. "Oh, whose turn is it this time?"

Concordia nervously looked from Ghetsis to Anthea and back to Ghetsis again. She noticed the stain on the floor as well but tried not to pay it any mind. "What?"

"I had to deal with him last time," Anthea whispered, pointing her finger accusingly at the now sobbing man. "It's your turn! Deal with it!"

Concordia started to argue but decided against it. Anthea was right – it was her turn. And this wasn't as bad as what Anthea had to deal with last time, but we don't like to talk about _that _time.

She looked around nervously, searching both her mind and the room for something to say or do. Her eyes darted from Ghetsis to that dreaded fruit punch stain. Someone needed to take care of that, and quick. I'm sick of mentioning it. Anyway, as she looked down upon the stain, a brilliant idea struck her mind like a stray thunderbolt strikes a flaaffy – ineffectively and with unimportant consequences. It's probably for the best, though, because Anthea interrupted her thought process and spoke anway.

"Stop crying, Ghetsis! This is idiotic! Stains can be removed!" Apparently Anthea had noticed the stain too.

"It's my party, and I can cry if I want to," Ghetsis whimpered. Like the little, ugly man he was. Anthea continued to belittle the man as he continued to whine, and the situation became more and more desperate by each consecutive mention of the stain.

Concordia began frantically looking from Anthea to Ghetsis, trying to readjust her previously derailed train of thought. She started to chew on her fingernails and rock back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her turn wasn't going well, but she thought she might as well make the best of it. In a last ditch effort, she squeezed her eyes shut and took in a deep breath and began to yell.

"But we have cake!" This was enough to shut both Anthea and Ghetsis up.

Ghetsis forgot about the stain, the weedle, and his son. "…what flavor?"


	3. Circus! A clown and bathtub nightmare?

FAST FORWARD

Cheery music filled the air as lights of all colors reflected off each and every tangible surface. Crowds of people congregated around the tent entrances. Their laughter carried through the air, adding to the music and giving off a lighthearted and contagious aura that couldn't help but infiltrate everyone's moods.

A smile graced N's face as he entered the circus tent and took his seat, with zorua by his side. He picked an aisle seat near the front, but he made sure it wasn't _too_ close to the front. In fact, he sat about four aisles away from the action.

As soon as he took his seat, the lights began to dim, as if on cue, and drums began to fill the air. More instruments soon followed, and with an echoing drumroll, the tent suddenly went dark. A single spotlight flicked on and shone directly upon the ringmaster and her snorlax, each wearing tacky outfits about three sizes too small.

"Good evening, folks! Oh, and pokemon, too, I guess. Welcome to the fabulous Big Top Circus! Don't like the name? Think it's unoriginal? Well, take that up with the complaint department, because we really don't care! Anyway, I hope you people are ready for the time of your pathetic lives!" The ringmaster was waving a cane around as she spoke, and with each spoken word, the cane was winning more fans than she was. The snorlax made a snorting sound beside her, signaling that now was probably the time to stop talking. The woman caught on fairly quickly and looked at the ground before scurrying off.

The spotlight flicked back off long before the snorlax had a chance to move. In fact, they remained off for another five minutes when a wagon had to be brought in to move the snorlax from his spot in the center ring. Someone must have thought the audience was starting to get bored, because eventually _Circus_ by Britney Spears was blasting from the speakers. This only served to make the audience, save for N, angrier and more agitated, but most people decided they didn't really have anywhere else to be on a Tuesday night.

N was mesmerized by the whole ordeal at first, or at least until he thought that maybe he should be against this. I mean, seriously, in about five minutes, pokemon are going to be jumping through hoops or jumping rope, and that's just not cool. They had to be captured to do that, right? So not with this whole liberation thing he was going for.

Despite his uneasiness, he eventually decided that this was the circus, dangit, and he wanted to see it. He had made quite the show earlier, and it would probably be a bit embarrassing if he had to tell Ghetsis that the circus sucked and the world actually was pretty dang ugly. But as of yet, neither was true, so he would stick around until the end. Or at least he would stick around until the clowns started asking for volunteers. And nobody wanted to be a clown's volunteer.

N's train of thought was interrupted when a much more enthusiastic announcer began speaking from the center ring. They apologized about the…situation earlier. Something about that ringmaster being the ringmaster from a rival circus. Politics were involved, and they would much rather not get into that right around now. The announcer said some parting words, and _Circus_ was playing once again, only this time for a somewhat excusable reason.

The audience turned their heads to the right. N turned as well, but was stopped suddenly when he heard zorua whimper. He tried asking the fox…thing what was wrong, but he immediately understood why he had whimpered. In fact, N felt like whimpering too.

"Father was right," N whispered, looking down at zorua. "The world is ugly."

Well, there's one for Ghetsis. Maybe the circus would get a little better? Oh, who am I kidding. This circus sucks and we all know it. It only gets worse from here.

N tried his best not to look, but curiosity got the better of him. A grungy clown was resting in a bathtub and was being pulled in by another clown on a tricycle. In his hands he clutched a water gun, presumably filled with the clown's bathwater. His dirty bathwater. And to N's horror, the clown began to _spray people with the water gun_.

And to further N's horror, the crowd was enjoying it.

"What kind of madness is this?" N's voice was hoarse and faltering, his palms sweating. He looked down at zorua – who now was trying to hide his face with his paws – in hope of some sort of support or advice. His friend instead refused to offer anything but soft cries of pain in reply.

"Ha ha, haha. HaHAHAHAHA! SPRAY ME! SPRAY ME WITH YOUR DIRTY NASTY BATH WATER! HAHAHA!" A man was screaming, laughing, hollering. As he yelled, others joined him. Soon, a whole chorus began singing. _Spray me_, they chanted. _Spray me._

"If I keep it up, there will be no more water left," the clown chuckled. As he said this, a slight smirk graced his face, thoroughly freaking N out.

"That's it; we're leaving," N whispered solemnly. He grabbed zorua and made a mad dash for the exit, mimicking a zigzagoon in its purest form. Luckily for N, the zigzagoon speed was perfect for this situation. The only other speed N knew was quagsire speed, which in all honesty isn't fast at all, so thank goodness that boy had the sense not to use it.

On his way toward the exit, N noticed a blur of brown and pink pass below him. At first, he thought nothing of it, because, hey, plenty of people wear brown and pink right? Probably. Sure. But when he thought he heard zorua say something like "hey, isn't she that one girl," he decided that this was by no means a coincidence. Certainly, it wasn't. That girl even had _the pokemon_.

She had a weedle.

Without any further hesitation, N skidded to a halt and sprinted off in the opposite direction. '_I think she went this way…Zorua, do you know where she went?' _N couldn't see her anywhere, even from his vantage point. Seriously, he towered over pretty much everyone there.

Zorua refused to answer, as he was still traumatized by the whole clown/bathtub thing. N looked down at his arms and put on his best pouty face. Zorua only rolled his eyes, but he decided that they would never leave this horrifying place if he didn't comply. With a heavy sigh he pointed back to the direction N had previously been running. N stopped pouting at this and allowed a huge smile to spread across his face. He thanked his friend (though I'm pretty sure this friendship is one-sided at this point) and ran off after Hilda.

He quickly made his way through the crowd, muttering excuses as he smashed into people, but the rate at which he was colliding with said people was a bit too frequent – some may even say he was doing so on purpose. But there really would be no point to that, so why bother thinking about it at all. After knocking down two old women, a screaming toddler, two peanut vendors, and a clown making balloon animals (though this one was definitely on purpose), N finally made it to the exit of the tent.

He ducked outside, circling around and around. He searched the crowd, looking for that trademark pink cap and ponytail. He couldn't see her anywhere, for the crowd had grown thicker since the show had started. Guess word gets around about naked clowns in bathtubs.

Zorua bit N's hand in order to catch his attention, which only earned him an upset glare. Unfazed by his look, Zorua apathetically pointed to a popcorn stand about 20 feet away. There she was, buying popcorn. Sweet, sweet popcorn.

"Hilda!" N started yelling and waving his arms about. A few people around him stopped what they were doing to give the man some room. Soon, a ring had formed around him. Zorua, who had just been unceremoniously dropped to the ground, threw a nasty look at N before he began to make his way over to the popcorn stall. N realized what he was doing and let his arms fall to his sides, slightly dejected and completely embarrassed as he began to follow zorua. He still kept yelling, though, albeit at a lower volume.

Once the two had made it about halfway to the stall, Hilda turned around, believing she had heard her name. She was entirely right, of course. Not knowing who was calling her and believing that maybe those Plasma grunts were after her, she decided that maybe she should get going. Yeah, those grunts who had been on the receiving end of her previously thrown bucket of popcorn. She grabbed some spare change from her pocket, threw it at the vendor, and ran off with the closest things she could grab: a box of crackerjacks and a rather large bag of corn chips.

Hilda began running at attacked-by-a-quagsire speed, which was actually much faster than normal quagsire speed and could very easily outrun zigzagoon speed under the right circumstances. She didn't stop to think about where it was she was going, but she needed to run – and fast. The crowd was making this rather difficult, however.

'_I can't be caught by them. Not this time. Not again'._ She was effectively running for her life, because this would actually be her second offense of the same crime. She had been warned that her punishment would be of the utmost severity if it happened again, but she couldn't resist. The option was wide open. She seized the opportunity. No regrets.

Well, okay. She was regretting it right around now. But other than that, no regrets.

She slowed down and jumped behind a dunking booth, bag of chips and crackerjacks clutched tightly to her chest. She looked to her left and checked her bag, making sure that she hadn't lost any pokeballs during her escape. She also checked to make sure her weedle was safe as well. He had jumped into her bag last minute, but you can never be too sure about them. Weedles are quite unpredictable and frisky. But, luckily, her weedle was resting on top of the contents of her bag. She petted it lightly.

"Hey, little dude. Did you see who was chasing us?" She cooed, a smile gracing her lips. Then she realized she was still being chased and stopped smiling.

"H-hilda! W-wait!"

_Oh, dangit, _she thought. They were still after her. But, wait. It only sounded like one person was after her, but she could have sworn that she hit _two _grunts with her popcorn. She decided to risk it, and she peered around the dunking booth. She could just barely make out a figure stumbling through the crowd, coming straight for her. "Augh! Who is-"

"Hilda!"

Unsure of what to do after being interrupted, she stood there, waiting, watching. Her follower finally broke through the crowd, panting heavily after having just screamed his little heart out for about three solid minutes. As Hilda looked at him, she thought she recognized him. Well, she didn't just think, she knew. How could she possibly forget _that _guy? But she didn't really feel like hamming it up with some Plasma sympathizer at the moment, no matter how much she actually wanted to.

"Ahh! Weedle-dee! Who's that hot guy- I mean who is that suspicious-looking person following us? Uh, run! R-RUN!" Hilda frantically started running in the opposite direction, slightly embarrassed of her actions. But only slightly. She had only acted that way to keep up her reputation. There's no way anybody was going to see her, the future champion, hanging out with _that_ guy. Okay, maybe there was a way. Just give me about two minutes.

With that, Hilda's speed was nearing that of an angry wooper, though neither N nor Hilda were aware of this speed. It could only be unlocked after completing the game with all characters at least twice and at least 500 multiplayer battles, but she came as close as anyone ever has to unlocking it. And just with sheer force alone. In fact, this speed was said to only be for True Masters of the Wind. And the only wind N had ever mastered was, well, you know. But this is neither the time nor place to discuss that, so we'll just continue onward with our enthralling story.

After rounding a corner, she slowed down slightly, looking around for some escape or hiding place. But did she really want to hide? Well, not necessarily. Actually, she would rather just stay and talk about weedles with N. He did seem awfully fond of Weedle-dee. She thought of that one time Cheren had told her that N wasn't interested in _just_ the weedle. When she had asked Bianca what he meant by that, the blonde had only laughed it off. Okay, so, maybe Hilda wasn't too keen on picking up advances from anyone, let alone noticing something was even close to an advance, but she still chose not to believe her friends.

Seriously. Have you even _seen_ N? Have you even _heard_ N speak? Yes? No? Well, all he does is talk about pokemon, truths and ideals, and how much he wants a friend. Hilda was bothered by this limited subject area, and she was certainly bothered by his constant talk of Team Plasma. But really, the guy was like a giant kid. He really had no grasp on how to hold a personal conversation about something other than weedles, so she was able to find forgiveness somewhere in her heart.

Unfortunately, she couldn't find any forgiveness for herself when she realized she had wasted just enough time for N to catch up to her.

* * *

note: i'd like to give a shout out to a certain guest. keep up the good work, mate.

also, the clown in the bathtub bit was inspired by true events, so count your lucky stars you haven't been to the same circuses I've been to

Anyway, I'd just like to say this is a joint project between me and my sister. Actually, I, the sister, am typing this right now. (shout out to descole4life. you keep up the good work, too.) This thrilling adventure only gets more thrilling, so stick around or something, I guess.

until next time


	4. Tackle! A bad fall and a missing weedle?

**Tackle! A bad fall and a missing weedle?**

* * *

Hilda resisted the urge to slap herself as N grew ever closer. There was no point in trying to run, anyway. Based on their previous meetings, he would say something about Team Plasma, talk to her weedle, look confused, and then walk away. Surely this time would be like all the rest. Or not. Most likely not, but Hilda didn't know that yet.

"Hilda, w-wait!" N was panting when he reached her. He bent over and leaned on his knees, trying to regain his breath. After about twenty seconds of silence, he finally regained his breath, as well as his posture. He stood up straight now, towering over Hilda. And I do mean towering. I mean, he's like nine feet tall or something.

Hilda looked up at him expectedly. Surely, after that little show, he had something of importance to tell her.

But he didn't.

The two continued to stare each other down in silence. Unfortunately for the circus-goers, they were standing smack dab in the middle of the pathway to the bathrooms. A few of the more kind-hearted people tried their best to maneuver around them, but one of the old ladies N had knocked over beforehand now found that she was in dire need of a potty break. Once she saw who was holding up the line, she seized the opportunity.

With all the strength she could muster, she rammed her body directly into N's. Unfortunately for N, the old woman was a veteran trainer who currently held the region record for number of marathons ran in 12 weeks – 28 full marathons, to be exact.

N went down. And he went down hard. Some people in the crowd even took it upon themselves to yell 'timber' as he fell.

With N now lying on the ground with an old woman on top of him, Hilda realized that now was the perfect time to make a run for it. Now. Right now. But she didn't. She just stood there with her hand covering her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Rather than running, she fell to her knees in a fit of laughter.

N only stared up at the night sky. The stars were beautiful tonight, but it's a shame he didn't seem to notice. The only thing he noticed was the sharp pain coming from his lower back. And also the old woman on top of him. He was shaken from his state when zorua walked up and licked his cheek. He struggled for a minute, trying his very best to get the woman off of him and finally stand up, but his best just wasn't good enough.

Zorua rolled his eyes and walked over to Hilda's shaking form. She was doubled over in laughter, occasionally banging her fist on the ground. Rather than lick her, zorua grabbed ahold of her ponytail and began tugging it. Hilda was unfazed by this at first, but eventually realized that it actually kinda hurt. She tried shooing zorua away, but to no avail.

The crowd heading toward the bathrooms had now congregated around the scene. Some people recognized N as the person who had ran into them earlier and were cheering the old woman on, while others recognized Hilda as the girl who had twice thrown popcorn at some Plasma grunts and gave her their regards and praise.

Noticing the crowd, Hilda managed to subdue her laughter and stand up, with zorua still latched onto her ponytail. She dusted the dirt off her legs and readjusted her bag, only to find that her weedle was not there. Panic flared and she began to shake her head left and right, searching the crowd for her pokemon.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone! Uh, I hope you enjoyed the show and all," she called out, nerves threatening to steal her voice, "but I think I…lost my weedle. Has anyone seen him? Maybe?"

Hilda tried her best to gain the crowd's attention, but they were focused on other things at the moment. Other things meaning N. They had all forgotten Hilda and had ceased complimenting her long before she realized Weedle-Dee was missing.

As Hilda continued to beg for someone's help and flail about, N's situation was only growing worse. He was slowly losing his ability to breathe, and despite his attempts, the old woman would not listen to reason and get off of him. All hope was lost. This was the end. It's time to say your goodbyes and last words now, because you don't really know how much time he has left.

But – wait! What's this?

N regained his ability to breath, and his entire being felt lighter. He hadn't realized until now that he had clenched his eyes shut shortly after being licked by zorua. With a deep breath, he opened them to find Hilda leaning over him. Her hand was extended toward him, and she was staring him down a bit impatiently.

The old woman was laying on the ground a few feet away, a look of shock coating her facial features.

He didn't take Hilda's hand at first. He tried to pick himself up but stopped short when he was overcome with a sick headache. He collapsed back on the ground – though luckily he had only managed to lift himself about 3 inches – and rolled to his side. He struggled to lift his right hand to massage his forehead, which had apparently been hit upon impact.

Hilda noticed his pain, but honestly, she had other things to worry about at this moment. Weedle-Dee could be anywhere in this dang circus. She couldn't waste any time looking for him, but that's exactly what she was doing now. Wasting time, waiting for N to do something. Go figure.

Not wanting to waste any _more _of her time, she grabbed the hand he was using to hold his forehead and hoisted him up. Unluckily for her, hoisting him up only meant lifting him into a sitting position. He groaned in pain, but it's not like anyone really cared about his feeling at that moment. Especially the crowd. Most people had remembered where it was they were heading and why they were heading there, so the crowd was starting to thin out. The bathrooms had quickly became the most populated area this side of Castelia City. Those few remaining just stood around, awkwardly waiting for something else to happen.

Hilda, now annoyed more than anything, rested her hands on her hips and began to stare N down. Feeling the weight of her glare, N looked up sheepishly. Or mareepingly? Whatever is a good pokemon reference. Anyway, with his hand still grasping his head, he made another attempt at getting up, but just like last time, he got nowhere.

Hilda was still glaring at him as she reached her hand out to him once again, but rather than doing so out of annoyance, this time around she did so because she felt sorry for the guy. He was pretty helpless, after all. Pathetic in a way, but certainly not as pathetic as Ghetsis. Hilda wouldn't have known this, however.

N noticed that the air of hostility was slowing alleviating and made an attempt to grab her hand. He failed of course, but by this point, Hilda understood that they would go nowhere with this and Weedle-dee would probably go everywhere if they waited any longer. She grabbed his hand once again and was finally able to lift him to his feet. He swayed for a minute, but once he managed to regain his footing, he muttered a thanks, refusing to look at Hilda the entire while.

But when he did look at her, he noticed zorua still hanging from her ponytail. If N was a jokester, he would have said something along the lines of "keep hangin' in there, buddy," but he wasn't much of one. Another good joke gone to waste.

"Zorua! What are you doing?" N broke the silence that had long since grown between him and Hilda, who had only just now realized why her head was starting to hurt. She shook her head slightly, sending the pokemon flying. Luckily, he saw this coming a long time ago and was prepared for the landing. He stuck it perfectly, and I could almost see a judge holding a scorecard with the number 10 printed on it in the distance.

N scowled at Hilda at first, but then remembered that he had been the one to chase after her, so in a way, this was certainly and entirely all N's fault.

Hilda remained unfazed at N's glare and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him closer to her. When he was down to her eye level, she stared him straight in the eye and asked, "Where is my weedle?"

N tried to avoid Hilda's gaze, flitting his eyes left and right so as not to look her in the eye. He was feeling incredibly uncomfortable with this violation of personal space. He opened his mouth to say something about that, but zorua cut him off instead.

_'Just tell her to look in her bag! That thing's been there the entire time!' _Zorua growled softly. He was honestly tired of this escapade and really wanted to go home and soak his eyes in bleach. The image of that clown still stained the back of his eyelids. Really, that stain was almost as bad as Ghetsis's fruit punch stain.

N only nodded in understanding. "Hilda, maybe you should…check your bag."

"What?! If he was there, I wouldn't be so upset right now! Seriously! Check in your bag! Hmph" She opened and closed her hand, mocking N. N didn't understand what she was doing or that she was mocking him, so he repeated himself.

"If it gets you to shut up, fine! I'll check my freaking bag, okay?" She opened her bag and moved some of items around. "I didn't see him! Okay, now let's actually go and-"

"Look again. And, you know, actually look." N nodded his head toward the bag.

Hilda took a step back and threw her bag on the ground. She made a big show of sitting down, being sure to add in some exasperated sighs for effect. Slowly, she opened her bag and sifted through its contents. A bottle of toothpaste. A rubber duck. Those corn chips from earlier. Her pokemon team. A half-eaten stick of beef jerky. But no weedle.

"He's not here!"

"Let me see." With that, N leaned down and grabbed the bag while Hilda crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. He unceremoniously poured the contents of the bag onto the ground. When he saw there was no weedle, he brought the bag closer to his face. A self-congratulatory smile crossed his face and he turned the bag upside down, shaking it slightly.

Weedle-Dee fell from the bag with all the grace of…some witty comparison.

Hilda stared at the weedle, her mouth gaping wide open. I think a fly even flew in there. She looked from the pokemon to N, then back to Weedle-Dee.

N smirked and stood up, realizing too late that he was still recuperating from that fall. Nausea overcame him, and he nearly fell down again. Noticing this, Hilda snapped out her shock long enough to stop the boy from toppling over. She shot up from her spot on the ground and held her arms out. She caught him, but only just in the nick of time. A second later and we would have had to repeat about half of this chapter, and seeing as nobody wanted to sit through it once, well.

Now laying half on the ground and half on Hilda, N sat rigid. This was the second time his personal space had been violated in the last three minutes, but he wasn't as bothered about it as he should have been.

"Weedle! Wee!" Weedle-Dee started to chirp. He only made this specific chirp when he saw someone he recognized, which actually happened quite often. But this chirp was often confused with his mischievous chirp, so in all honesty it could go either way.

Hilda and N both glanced down at Weedle-Dee, then to each other. Both reeled back in shock, finally noticing that N was practically sitting on Hilda. N ended up falling backwards, back to his rightful spot on the ground, while Hilda tried to kick herself back a few feet, away from _him_. This didn't work quite as she planned, seeing as she ended up just getting tangled in N's overly long legs. N had completely given up on everything by this point and only stared straight into the night sky. At least this time around he finally saw just how beautiful the stars really were.

"Hey, Hilda! Is that you?" Hilda's eyes widened as she began to frantically look around. '_No, please, please don't let it be-'_

"Hilda? Honestly, I would expect you to have just a little more pride." Another voice now. And Hilda recognized them both.

"Wow! Uh, well. What are you…doing?" Bianca looked quizzically down at her friend. She looked slightly embarrassed as she tried to readjust her beret. Cheren followed her lead and readjusted his glasses before looking down at the two on the ground.

Hilda could only squeak. Luckily for her, N was fully capable of speech, despite his position.

"Well, you see, when I realized I had been sitting on Hilda's lap-"

Okay, so, maybe unluckily for her, N was fully capable of speech, despite his position.

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note: thanks for the reviews, guys. I'm glad to know I'm not the only person to find this funny.

anyway, sorry about the first couple chapters being so short. This is about the length they'll be from now on, but it'll update more often, promise.

have fun, kids


	5. Chickens! A familiar face here?

Last week's episode: Due to Hilda's absentmindedness, N was able to catch up to both her and her weedle. Before the two are able to even have a decent conversation, N is on the ground underneath a rather disgruntled old woman. While N is down, Hilda's weedle is lost (only momentarily). Weedle-Dee is soon found, and with the help of some awkward phrasing, Hilda and N join up with Bianca and Cheren for the time of their lives.

And honestly, if this is the time of their lives, well. Best of luck to them, I suppose.

After Hilda and N were untangled, Bianca asked the two to join Cheren and her. Actually, it was more of a demand than a request.

Cheren even offered to buy everyone dinner. Or rather, Bianca offered for him.

There was little question on whether they would or not; before Hilda had a chance to answer, she found herself being dragged toward the carnival games. (It should honestly be mentioned that this circus is being held at the amusement park. Unless you figured that out already, which I hope you have. Please tell me you have.)

N was left behind, holding Hilda's weedle. Cheren stood beside him, appearing slightly annoyed. He didn't have enough money to pay for _everyone's_ dinner. He barely had enough to pay for that pack of peanuts back there, but _holy crap were those things worth it_. Ahem. But he wouldn't tell anybody about his predicament until they had all ordered and eaten. He smirked. Yes, he had concocted an entire plan.

Everyone would order and eat. During the meal, he would complain about having to pay – yes, he would put on the whole charade. Hilda would crack a joke, he would scowl; Bianca would snort, he would roll his eyes; N would…probably just stare, he would stare back. Then when it came time to pay, he would pull out his wallet. Oh? What's this? Only five pokedollars? And everyone had collectively decided to order the most expensive burger this diner had? Well, looks like someone _else_ will just have to pick up that $800 tab. That'll teach you to mess with the mighty and magnificent Cher-

"Shouldn't we follow them?" Cheren was sucked out of his thoughts when he noticed he had been rubbing his hands in a mildly sinister way. N was staring him down (which really wasn't out of the norm). He dejectedly let his hands fall to his sides, but only after he had made a show of pushing up his glasses.

"Of course. After you," he said mockingly. He made a grand show of pointing the guy toward the struggling Bianca and Hilda.

With weedle in arm, N set off in the direction of the two girls. Cheren followed closely behind him, still smirking. His plan was totally genius and would totally work. Nothing bad would happen. Nothing at all.

The boys caught up with the girls in no time, seeing as they were only about ten feet away. Bianca was marveling at some crane game while Hilda was still trying to dust herself off. Some stains never come out. Like that fruit punch stain. Like the proverbial fruit punch stain that finds itself imbedded in each and every one of our souls, reminding us that in the end, our bad deeds far outweigh the good – that we will never find true solace in life. Death is the only stain remover that can rid us of our pain. Death and that _**Clorox**_® _**Bleach Pen.**_

__Before Bianca was able to waste any money on the crane game, before Hilda was able to remove the dirt stains, and before N was able to say anything about pokémon liberation, a low grumble was heard. Everyone looked around, slightly confused (much like me).

Eyes soon fell upon Hilda's weedle, who now sat atop N's hat. The caterpillar-looking thing stared back at everyone, taking the time to look into each individual's eyes, well, individually.

"He says he is hungry," N stated. The other three still stared at the weedle but just decided to go along with it.

"Oh! I know! How about we go to-"

"You know what im hungry for? Chicken. Just chicken. Nothing more. That's all I ask. Chicken. A chicken restaurant. Yes. Kentucky-Fried Chicken. Thanks for the suggestion, Bianca." Despite having a full-proof plan that would most certainly work, Cheren still decided that it was probably safe to at least try to have some form of cover, because he was smart and knew what he was doing. Yeah.

"Chicken? Did someone say chicken? Because I heard a BRAK BRAK." Hilda, Cheren, and Bianca simultaneously turned to stare at the man who had made that horrific noise. Bianca's mouth fell agape and Hilda made some effort to close it for her, only to be stifled by an outburst of laughter. Cheren could only stand there, and N was having a friendly conversation with Weedle-Dee and Zorua, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

"Excuse me?" Cheren was the only person capable of responding.

"Ha, get it? Like, a chicken noise. I mean, a rufflet noise? Those are close, right?" This guy was clearly confused, but not as confused as our four heroes. "Do we even have chicken in this universe?"

"Oh, man. Ha, _another_ green-haired guy? What are the odds?" Hilda whispered to Bianca. "Wait what."

"Hey! I know you! You're, um. Uh. You're…" The blonde trailed off and started to twiddle her thumbs. Nobody bothered to finish her track of mind, because, honestly, nobody else could remember his name. Eventually, however, the silence was too much, so the four simultaneously decided to at least try to finish Bianca's track of mind.

"Oh, yeah! You're…that one guy."

"Yeah, him!"

"It's been a long time…you."

"Is your name Gerald, perhaps?"

"Oh! Salon, wasn't it?" Hilda was the first to come anywhere close.

The man was able to stop mumbling about whether or not chickens existed in this universe just long enough to nod in slight agreement. _And if chickens don't exist, then why do I know about them? Why do we have KFCs if chickens don't exist?_

This seemed to settle the whole name matter, but it didn't settle the where-do-we-know-you-from matter. Hilda elbowed Cheren in hopes that he would ask what the others would not. Cheren only sighed at first but quickly realized they weren't going to get anywhere with that attitude.

"Hey, Salon, was it? Do we know you from somewhere?" Cheren cautiously approached the man, in fear of what else he may be capable of. The man, on the other hand, remained unaware of anything but the Great Chicken Conundrum. Cheren remedied this by elbowing him.

"Huh? Oh. Yes, I suppose so. I mean, I would hope so!" He looked pretty sure of himself, much unlike anybody else.

"We…do?"

"Yes, yes! Of course! Uh, do you not remember?"

"Well, your entrance kinda threw everyone off," Hilda piped in.

The kids had formed a half-circle around the man, eager to hear what this dude had to say. (Because he certainly did have quite a few interesting things to say.) Much like a few minutes earlier in this story, they were all standing in the way of something, though instead of bathrooms, this time it was the crane game. Good thing everyone knew that this game was a total ripoff, because there wasn't a line at all. This description was entirely useless, sorry.

"Ah, well…forgive me," he was much more polite when he wasn't making strange chicken noises. "I am Cilan! One of the three brothers from the Striaton City Gym. Grass-type leader, to be exact."

Everyone was a bit too shocked by his sudden behavior change to formulate a reply, so Cilan was just left hanging for a few minutes.

"So one of the waiter dudes? Yeah, I guess I remember you. You really weren't that much of a challenge, man. Seriously, me and Oshawott beat you like it was nothing. No wonder I didn't remember you." Hilda shrugged before smiling coyly. She never sold herself short, you see.

"Ah! Yes," he gave a slight bow before continuing, "_you_ were quite the challenge, Miss Hilda. I never stood a chance against a trainer as strong you, but it's not like I could back down. I'm glad to see you're doing well. And your friends, too."

Cheren and Bianca each forced a smile, but calling it a smile was putting it a little too nicely. N was left out of this conversation entirely, save for him calling Cilan Gerald. He was actually perfectly content about this fact, however; who would want to be talking to the guy that made that awful noise? Not N. Not Cheren. Not Bianca or Hilda or Weedle-Dee or Zorua or Oshawott or any of the other pokémon that I haven't mentioned yet. But three of those listed above were talking to him and had no way out of it.

"Yeah, sure, but why are you talking to us, exactly?" Cheren's forced smile had long since fallen. It was time to end this sorry excuse for a conversation as painlessly as possible.

"Oh? No reason. I just heard you, Cheren, mention something about…food. I thought I'd intervene and invite you all to the grand opening of my, uh, I mean, our new restaurant. My brothers and I are opening a new restaurant chain! The first is opening here, today. Wait, uh. Right now, actually. Gosh! Oh no, oh no! I'm late! I'm late!"

With that, Cilan left the group covered in dust as he took off toward the amusement park exit. Cheren opened his mouth to give some sort of biting remark but was quieted when Cilan stopped and called out, "Oh! The restaurant is near the Pokétheater! I hope to, uh, see you there, I guess!"

He turned and went on his not-so-merry way, leaving the group to just stare at each other and shake their heads. Hilda burst into laughter yet again, causing Bianca to jump.

"How did he remember our names?" She managed to wheeze between laughs. Bianca made an exaggerated frown and shrugged. Cheren pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. N just stood there.

"Well, I don't really know why, but he did invite us to his restaurant! And we wanted to go somewhere, right Cheren?" Bianca looked expectedly at the boy. He said nothing at first, but soon remembered that the restaurant in Striaton hadn't been the cheapest of places to eat. Before he could disagree, she happily interrupted. "Guess it's settled! Cheren's buying us food at Salon's place!"

"But wasn't his name Cilan?"

"Shut up, N." By this point, Cheren was seething with rage.

Hilda and Bianca shared a high-five and tried to replicate it with N, who was a bit surprised by Cheren's anger. Hadn't he said he planned to make them pay for the food anyway? Or maybe he wasn't aware N had heard his tirade. He hoped Cheren had realized he was thinking aloud, but that hope was dwindling fast. At least the girls hadn't heard his plan.

"Hey, N! All you have to do is put your hand up and then hit mine! Seriously, man, it's easy. Just. Like. This." Hilda was trying to teach N the ancient ritual of the High Five, with little to no success. N finally snapped out of his reverie and tried to follow her lead. With a few tries, he succeeded. (Okay, he succeeded on the first try; that was an exaggeration. High-fives really aren't that hard. I'm sorry for lying to you.)

With the whole matter put to rest, if only momentarily, Bianca and Hilda decided it was time to actually have fun, which was something everyone had been failing to do this evening. The two dragged N off toward the ring-tossing booth, leaving Cheren alone to fume.

"I can't believe this. It's just, just that. Ugh. Deep breaths, Cheren. It's okay. It's going to be okay. Just stick to the plan, and you won't have to worry about anything. Everything will – huh? What is it?" Cheren glanced at the ground, searching for whatever it was that interrupted his little pep-talk. It was Hilda's weedle, who had somehow been separated from N when he was pulled away. "Fine. I'll join them."

Weedle-Dee had not asked Cheren to join them at all. No, he had actually wanted to join Cheren _not _joining them, but it's not like Cheren can talk to pokémon. N would understand. N always understands.

Cheren took the weedle into his arms and headed off in the direction of the other three, finding himself falling behind for the second time tonight. Dang, tonight was just not his night. Though it's not like it was anyone else's, for that matter.

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A/N: sorry for the lack in updates! a masterpiece like this takes time.

anyway, thanks for all the kind reviews! means a lot to me


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